


First Blood

by coolasdicks



Series: Mindless [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Blood, Gen, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 09:25:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1893834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolasdicks/pseuds/coolasdicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Michael first drew blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Blood

The next time was a few months after entering a polyamorous relationship with his coworkers, which surprised no one. Michael had already been well aware that he was attracted to all of the Hunters, but after a stressful week of being ‘offered’, he realized he also had the potential to love them. All of them. He never thought he’d be able to handle such a strenuous relationship, but it turned out to be some of the best months of Michael’s life so far.

They’d yet to move in together, but Michael no longer lived in that dreaded apartment. Unbeknownst to his lovers, he’d terminated his lease with the place and instead spent his nights in a constant rotation between Geoff’s house and Ryan’s. He slept at Jack’s house when he wanted actual sleep, as the bearded man had a long-standing offer with the redhead. Plus Jack’s house was always quiet and peaceful, too easy to fall asleep in. 

_“If you ever need a place to stay, my door is always open._ ”

Michael tried not to spend too much time at any one’s particular house. He didn’t want them knowing he was basically homeless and wasn’t sure if “But I’m  _willingly_ homeless!” would make it any better.

The next incident had nothing to do with the boys. It didn’t really have much to do with anything, honestly. Sometimes the dark corners in Michael’s mind seeped into the walls until everything was black, and he couldn’t find the door.

He didn’t go  _looking_ for that GIF, but his fingers were on autopilot as he typed in a rather dangerous search item. A few text boxes were the first on the list, but as he went down on the page, more and more pictures of bleeding wounds and cut up skin filled his vision.

Something in his chest expanded with each picture, his heart swelling and spilling through the cracks in his ribcage. Some images were more brutal than others, his favorite ones being the not-so-serious injuries. They were thinner and more artistic-looking. It was something that attracted Michael, the draw probably stemming from the fact that Michael often found it hard to control his own mind and thoughts, and sometimes actions. He wasn’t an angry person – not really. He was just… too much. Too much emotion, too much turmoil, too much discord.

Playful pictures of crimson spider webs covered his computer screen late that night, after his lovers had left. He’d refused their invitations to go out drinking for a reason that he didn’t really know, but as he sat motionlessly in front of the screen, he began to understand why.

That razor was still in his desk.

No one would ever know if he just made a quick, light scratch on the surface. They wouldn’t question a single scar on an otherwise unpainted canvas. There was no privacy, what with the five other guys who saw his naked body on a regular basis, but they were  _guys._  They didn’t think about much while in that zone, and they certainly wouldn’t notice something as minuscule as a thin red line.

He chose his hips in the end. It was the safest bet and the easiest to reach. Pulling up the hem of his shirt to reveal the paled skin, he placed the edge of the razor to a spot just above his hipbone. He pressed firmly, but it took a few minutes before he was sure he wouldn’t cut too deep or fly off the handle.

It was such a nice, clean little cut. Straight across, parallel to his ribs. The sight was calming, but the feeling was like a drug.

Tranquility was thick as paste as it filled his veins, stopping his beating heart and muffling the frantic pounds. Noise was muffled to him as he breathed deeply, his lungs joyously fulfilling his request. His mind eased back from the edge of panic it had been perched on, the thick coating of darkness receding until tucked safely back into its corner. He could feel a small trail of hot liquid down his cheek, the sudden relief strong and overpowering.

Instead of putting the blade back into his desk, Michael slid it between the back of his phone and the case. Now that it had been metaphorically dirtied, its metallic cherry popped, he couldn’t have it lying around the office, could he? Despite the same virtual appearance of the small blade, he felt that the others would know, upon looking at it, that it had been used to cleanse Michael of his demons.

He didn’t know that he’d just let out the biggest demon of them all.


End file.
